with meetings like these

To prepare ourselves for the inevitability of a national publications, we've been meeting every Monday at the college meat market to hash out ideas and drink ourselves into oblivion. The meetings have been very helpful because after cycling through a few pitchers of Guinness, no task seems too daunting. This afternoon, we got especially shitty because we received good news. I'm not sure that's the reason why, but it seems as good a reason as any. The Guinness tap wasn't working properly so we were forced to drink lesser brews. I lost track of pitchers. We were there for well over four hours on the outside patio. Day became night and many drinks were spilled. All I've consumed today was beer and fried foods (fries, zucchinis, fish and chicken strips), and about half a bottle of water.

I was given a ride home and retired to the living room love seat (on which no love occurs) and got all sappy during the finale of The Bachelor (but that was the beer talking), wondered why I'm so addicted to reruns of Fear Factor and then watched a low budget movie during which I quickly fell asleep. I awoke to find my roommate entering with two pint glasses and two cans of Guinness Draught. We watched that reality show about the Orange County Choppers guys, who are even bigger whiney drama queens than I am.

But the nagging pain in my left eyebrow is telling me that I should cut my losses and get back to bed before I have to endure a waking hangover. The only remedy: late night informercials and sleep.